13 Lives- Part two (untitled)
by Superman's Y-Fronts
Summary: In a sequel to 13 Lives - First Life, Katrithetarelundar, daughter of the Doctor and Romanadvoratrelundar, has left Gallifrey, in need of change. Following in her parents' footsteps she runs from her home seeking adventure, escape, and something, anything, new.
1. Chapter 1

She screams as the painful golden light courses through her, changing every cell in her body, healing by destroying.

It burns, and the scalding heat is the only thing she is aware of. That, and a vague feeling she may be crashing and should have paid more attention to the one day of the piloting course she had turned up to. Oh well, too late now.

A breathy laugh is released at the certainty that her sense of humour has by far improved, but it is cut short by searing pain as she realises the burn scars across her arm are disappearing and being burnt afresh into her ankle, and suddenly she is back in a dimly lit room, she is small, she is afraid, she is screaming.

And then she is looking into the schism, a gaping rip between the fluctuating fabric of time, and she is everything, and she is nothing, and everywhere, and always, and nowhere, and never, and _it hurts._

And then it's over; she's changed, but in that moment, all she can think about is how she hasn't.

She's still alone. Still afraid. And it still hurts.

_**A/N: Short introduction chapter, okay, so it's kinda miniscule, but they'll be a follow up this weekend which should be a bit more light hearted in a break from, um, most of this thing so far.**_

_**Any thoughts for titles?**_


	2. Chapter 2

Katrithetarelundar wakes up.

It is only upon doing so that she actually realises she had passed out, and as she blows a few strands of unreasonably bright red curls out of her face and sits up, she suddenly remembers why.

Curious, she begins checking herself. Legs? Yes, two, same size. Feet? Average size, match. Knees? Not too knobbly. Hips? Just about. Hands? Long fingers, horologists' fingers. Shoulders? Small, round. Nose? Of the button variety. Lips? Small, round. Cheekbones? Phwoar! Excellent! Eyebrows? Oh, well. Better luck next time. Ears? Phew.

She can feel people outside, so despite her fatigue, she determinedly half trudges, half stumbles out the partially formed doors, her long, cumbersome Timelord robes falling down onto the floor in a heap as she goes.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Earth, the North Atlantic Ocean, 1912**_.

'All right, I'll see you this evening then.'

'Amelia, don't be ridiculous, you know perfectly well that you are too young to be walking around alone.'

'Well, consider this a trial. Should anything bad happen, I won't do it in future. Should it go well, you convince Father to reconsider. Do we have an agreement, Mother?'

'You and your agreements will be the death of me, Amelia' the tall, elegant woman sighed, shaking her head, 'very well, you have until seven o'clock, don't let your father see you, understand?'

'Oh, thank you Mother, thank you! I won't let you down!' Her equally tall daughter gushed, breaking out into a smug grin and beaming at her mother, not quite at the age of elegance yet.

As her mother continued down the corridor and turned the corner, secretly smiling to herself, proud of her daughter's newfound independence, the girl stood there for a moment revelling in her freedom.

However her moment of contemplation was interrupted by the sound of something heavy being tipped over followed by a slightly muffled exclamation of 'Ow! Bloody Hell! Well that's just cheating.'

Intrigued, Amelia followed the sound, towards the third class cabins, right at the rear of the boat- what was it called, the port? Starboard? No, that's it- stern.

As she rushed towards the noise, she narrowly missed being floored as a young woman with the most extraordinary red hair burst out of it and promptly stumbled, falling heavily into a heap on the floor.

As Amelia knelt down to help her up, she managed to pick up a few words from the woman's mumbling. 'Course I _would _land in a room full of top-opening cases…bloody gravity…have to check the dimensional stabilisers…probably still be on fire by the time it lets me back in…stupid jammed bloody door…Oh, hello there.'

Startled, Amelia hurriedly responded, 'Oh, yes, er, hello…are you alright?'

'Er, yes. Thank you! I mean, I just got a little confused…oh dear…' she trailed off, glancing downwards and noticing the state of her clothes. The sleeves of her opaque red blouse were in tatters, the left sleeve barely hanging on, so, realising there was no longer anything left to hide beneath it, she ripped it off, and instead turned her attention to the singed remains of what had been quite a modest skirt. 'Aargh,' she muttered, the pain of the freshly burned brand on her right ankle flaming up again, 'Actually, I think I may need a change of clothes, if I just go back and-'

'Don't be ridiculous!' She was interrupted, 'you're in no condition to pick out an outfit, come with me, I'm sure I can find you something in my cabin for this evening.'

'Right. Yes, this evening…and your cabin would be…'

'It's only up a few flights of steps and towards the front of the ship, erm, excuse me, I mean the bow.'

'Right the ship, which ship exactly? I'm sorry, I think I may have knocked my head when I fell, it's given me quite a, um, turn, I suppose.'

'That's quite all right, it's the Titanic of course! Unsinkable they say! And I'm Amelia, you are?'

'Oh, I'm Kat- it's short for …Katherine.' She replied, thanking god that she'd found that book of names back in the library on Gallifrey. 'When we get to your cabin, do you think we can find some ice or something? I've got rather a bad burn and it stings awfully.'

'Some ice…I suppose we could ask in the kitchen, we pass the restaurant on the way.'

_**A/N: So um sorry about the, er, wait. A lot of shit happened and I really wasn't in the mood for writing. Thanks for the lovely review. Bye.**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Earth, the North Atlantic Ocean, 1912**_.

'Oh.' Was all Amelia could manage as Katherine emerged from her dressing room.

'I-I don't know…I can't wear this, it's yours, I- I shouldn't even be going, you hardly know me-'

'Then let me get to know you! We still have plenty of time before the ball begins, and there's no way I'm going to be able to wear that dress after seeing how you look in it. It complements your hair so well-'

At this point, Kat began to zone out. Amelia was lovely, but very excitable, and Kat felt uncomfortable with the amount of compliments she was piling on.

The crimson dress really was beautiful (the hair, she could only hope to get used to), it fell just below her knees, and was decorated with small ruffled flowers along the hem, and a wide, slightly darker belt, tied at the back. She had pinned back a few tedious flyaways from her face that had been bugging her since she'd arrived, and was no longer totally dreading whatever her new friend had dragged her into.

From Amelia's excited ramblings, Kat had managed to ascertain that "this evening" was a ball for the wealthiest passengers on the ship, Amelia seemed to be planning to present Kat to her parents as proof she was worthy of independence. This, Kat _was _dreading.

Her thoughts touched for a moment on how she'd got here, they flew off in a million different directions; The TARDIS she had left smouldering away in that unoccupied room, what would remain when she got back there, how long she would stay here, where she would go next, how Koschei was coping with her leaving him alone, she ran through the last interaction she'd had with "Zhorn" a thousand times, never becoming any clearer, never making any sense. Try as she might, she couldn't fully comprehend that that horrifying, condescending _monster_ she'd seen that day was really Finn, her Finn. Finn who had stood by her, ignoring her differences in favour of maintaining and strengthening their relationship, despite the cost to him, he had become estranged from his father, in fact only his older brother, the Corsair, would speak to him, his entire family had rejected him, along with most of the people they knew. As she contemplated the sacrifices he had made for her, and tried to correlate them with the loveable, fiercely loyal gentleman she'd seen become of that little blonde boy in the park, she was distracted by a cry of 'Goodness, it's time to go, we've only got five minutes until it starts and it's at the other end of the ship, come on!' as Amelia dragged her out the door and they began running down the corridor towards the party.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Earth, the North Atlantic Ocean, 1912**_

Uncomfortable and slightly bored, Timelord Katrithetarelundar stood in the corner of an absurdly large ballroom, looking on as her newfound friend received a stern talking-to from the imposing figure of her tall, angular father.

At first, Amelia's parents had been almost welcoming, but after her mother had - rather stiffly – said that when she'd given Amelia some freedom, this hadn't _quite _been what she'd had in mind, Kat had slunk away to get a drink and assess the people in the room from a distance.

She had just begun to work out the relationship of two people dancing in the middle of the room, when she realised there was someone stood next to her, seemingly trying to see whatever she could.

'What do you see when you look at them?' He asked her.

'They're just old friends' she concluded.

'But the way she looks at him-'

'It's not love, it's a sort of…fondness, it's nostalgic, not hopeful. I don't think they have much longer together, this journey is goodbye for them, not hello.' She interrupted.

'Ah, I see. So whereas you see romantic love as being something that looks forward, this look is focussing on the past, although I think perhaps it is not the past she quite wanted. Those memories, they are reminders of what maybe could have been-ah, you see, there it is,' he added as the woman left the man standing there, an urgent skip in her step as she heads towards the rest room ' don't you think?'

Kat remains silent, the question hanging wide open around them.

This does not go unnoticed, and realising he has said too much he turns apologetically towards her.

She looks up towards him, taking in every detail to try and distract herself, focus on something else. Short black hair, leading towards a short and narrow beard that skirts along his chin, and flares up in two tendrils on either side of his mouth, joining in a thin moustache. His hair sticks up at the front, which along with the black shirt he wears rather than the standard suit sets him apart from the rest of the party.

He too does not altogether belong here, that much is obvious.

'My name is Dimitri'

'Kat.' There's a noticeable pause before she finally asks, 'What are you doing here?'

The question is unexpected, and slightly in shock, he breaks out in a wide smile. All of a sudden they are both stood there, surrounded by strangers, strangers to each other, bound to be spotted and asked to leave at any moment, laughing uncontrollably.

_**A/N: Alright, Titanic nerds, so I am well aware that there was no ballroom onboard, but in case you hadn't noticed, this is fiction. Fanfiction in fact, here we obey none of your rules of reality, sorry if this bothers you, but I needed it for this chapter to work. Tough shit. Get in touch!**_


End file.
